


kaleidoscopic

by constellatory



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Gen, it's muppet babies homestuck, why
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-01-11
Packaged: 2018-03-06 13:52:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3136781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/constellatory/pseuds/constellatory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Weird things happen when you live down the street from Vrischika Serket. Weirder things happen still when you attend classes at the YMCA together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First She Punched A Wall

**Author's Note:**

  * For [brampersandon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brampersandon/gifts).



> (May you ever choke on it, CBrizzle.) Yes, this will be chapters, no, I don't know if I'll finish it, but yes, chapter 2 is already written. Also, yes, the title is a deliberate reference to one of my other works. Anyway, let's see what we can do.

They met thirteen years ago at the YMCA that was, coincidentally, just down the road from both their houses. John was just six at the time but already a burgeoning prankstraordinaire, and spent a solid four-and-a-half week period after his sixth birthday refusing to leave the house without his favorite bristly mustache on. When Dad decided to enroll him in children’s improv classes at the YMCA, John was at first annoyed, then curious, then enthralled. The big, brown old building had always reminded him of a warehouse, and had seemed just about as appealing to ever be inside, with its linoleum floors and fluorescent lighting overhead. But the room the improv classes took place in was tiny, off the main hallway, and actually had a little raised dais at one end for the children to use as a stage. This room had wood paneling for the floors and a handful of little windows that faced southwest, so the room was bathed in the last of the afternoon’s warm light each day when he arrived after school for class.

A number of classes were held at the YMCA as part of their after school activities roster, and many of them were very popular. The town was small and working-class, and most parents couldn’t pick their children up till 5. The local school system had any enrolled children bussed directly there at the end of each school day, so John got to enjoy goofing off and hamming it up in improv with his friends. He was an instant hit, with a loose, goofy, funny way about him that had a self-awareness most children his age lacked, which made his routines, always freshly-invented on the spot (some children admitted to secretly trying to plan lines in advance), all the funnier. 

That day he was up on stage, standing in the center of a half-moon of other children and delivering what he thought was an excellent monologue about clowns. He had so many in his house, you see, and what was up with his dad’s weird taste in harlequins? He had the other kids in stitches and was feeling very proud of himself when a loud crash from the adjacent “ballet studio” (really the center’s dedicated yoga room with convenient wall-to-wall mirrors) interrupted him. John stopped mid-sentence to stare, and so did all the other children, plus the improv teacher. The older woman was barely able to get out a “What on Earth—?” before there came another crash, and both boys and girls in the improv class shrieked and scrambled away as an impact cracked and very nearly broke through the plaster wall. Out in the hallway there was the sound of heavy, running footsteps, and now very clearly everyone could hear the wailing and tantrum-induced shrieking of a little girl next door.

Not hearing (or simply ignoring) his teacher’s reprimands to the contrary, John immediately jogged over to the door and stuck his head out into the hallway. He was just in time to see the YMCA director, a very nice older man named Mr. Kowalczyk, march down past the door with a squirming, screaming girl with warm mahogany skin and a rat’s nest of long, wild black hair in his arms.

“No! Fuck you! Put me down right now!”

“Vrischika, please, you know better than to use that kind of language in here—”

“My name is _Vriska,_ shut up!”

She wriggled so hard that Mr. Kowalczyk had to stop and readjust to keep his grip on her upper arms, and during the pause Vriska just so happened to glance over at John. Her bright blue eyes were luminous with furious tears, and she snarled at him, kicking her legs as if she could somehow reach him from three feet away.

“What the hell are _you_ looking at, four-eyes?! Mind your own beeswax— ow!”

Mr. Kowalczyk had regained control enough to start walking again, sternly reprimanding Vriska all the way. Vriska flailed and kicked and turned her head to shout, just as loud as she possibly could,

“By the way, your mustache is freaking stupid!”

That was the first time John Egbert and Vrischika Serket spoke.

* * *

“Whoa,” breathed John to no one in particular. Just as he started to ease his way out of the room to follow the spectacle to its final destination - likely the director’s office, which always felt suspiciously similar to the principal’s office at school - a hand on his shoulder brought him up short. Craning his neck, he stared upwards at his normally laid back improv teacher, who was looking none too amused at the moment.

“John Egbert,” she said, her voice taking on that lilting, clipped quality it always did when she was really mad. “Just where do you think you’re going?”

“To make sure she’s okay,” his brain immediately supplied, and it didn’t sound like a lie at all when the words rolled off his tongue. Largely because it was not a lie; it was just also not exactly the truth. Ms. Chae, despite the deep laugh lines around her eyes, could be very imposing when she wanted to be, which was right now. To John’s sinking sense of dismay, she didn’t seem to buy his story.

“Friends, are you?”

“Yeah!” It was only too late John realized the implications of such a statement, especially since Vrischika - no, _Vriska_ \- had just nearly punched a hole through _his_ room’s wall. “I—I mean,” he sputtered, following up too quickly to maintain any semblance of innocence, “I’ve seen her at school, we’re not like, _close_ or anyth—“

Ms. Chae’s eyes were narrowed now, and John petered off into sudden silence. He knew _she_ knew he was innocent - but now that the gentleman had protested too much, he seemed too guilty by association to let go. The little smile on her face told him he wasn’t _really_ in trouble, but that treating him like he was would be his punishment for being such a sneaky little voyeur. “Maybe you’d better go join her in the director’s office, John.”

Ms. Chae released his shoulder and gave a nod of her head down the hallway. “Hurry up!”

John was the very picture of kicked-puppy dejection as he slouched away, and Ms. Chae’s soft laugh following his steps didn’t make him feel any better. _Mean._ Though that whip-quick, biting, dry-as-the-Sahara sense of wit was certainly what had gotten her the job as children’s improv coach in the first place. It gave her a firm hand with keeping potentially unruly kids like John in line.

As John took his time on his way to his not-really-a-punishment punishment, it was several minutes before he arrived at the first floor director’s office. By the time he got within speaking distance of the door, he could hear voices, muffled, raised slightly in argument emanating through the faux-wood and semi-translucent white plastic that masqueraded as a window. Immediately John felt keenly aware of his position and started to back away before remembering he’d been sent here in the first place for accidentally eavesdropping. He might as well make this one intentional. 

Very carefully, he eased open the door, which to his immense relief had somehow not been shut all the way. No one heard him as he gave himself an inch-wide window of space through which to peer. All he could really see was the side profile of a woman, tall, whose round face did nothing to soften the severity of her expression. When John twisted and craned his head he could just see Vriska’s legs dangling over the edge of a chair, kicking petulantly back and forth. 

“Hey John!”

The sudden voice startled John so badly that he slammed the door shut, and somehow smashed his nose with the edge of it as he did so. Instantly he doubled up on the floor, hissing “ _ow ow ow ow ow_ ” and pressing both hands to his face. Seconds later the door opened hard enough to smack right into him _again,_ sending him sprawling on his butt in the hallway.

“John!” Mr. Kowalczyk immediately bustled over and knelt by the boy’s side, helping him back to his feet. “Good God, I’m so sorry. Are you—“

“He’s a rude and sneaky little boy,” said the tall woman John had just seen as she stepped out into the hallway. Vriska was behind her, mouth twisted into a quivering frown and head bowed so she could stare more effectively at her untied sneakers. “Who just got what he deserved for snooping.”

Mr. Kowalczyk had the good grace to look appalled. “Are you saying you _intentionally_ opened the door on—“

“Not at all,” Vriska’s mother instantly and breezily interjected, already turning to leave. “How was I to know he was there? I did not, that’s how. I thought the door shutting was just a strong breeze. Now come on, Vrischika.” Away she strode, and Vriska hopped to stay on her mother’s heels. She turned back for just a moment to stare at John and give him a despondent little wave before the two disappeared out the YMCA’s front doors.

“That woman,” Mr. Kowalczyk muttered under his breath, seeming unimpressed before remembering his present company. “Right, never mind. Come on, let’s get a tissue for that nose and you can tell me why my best improv student got sent here just a couple seconds after I got done scolding my worst ballet student.”

* * *

It wouldn’t be until late that same night that John found out who had called his name in the hallway and scared him so badly. In the immediate aftermath no one had thought to look, and the culprit had, of course, already been long gone. When Dad brought the phone to his room around 6:30 PM as John doodled on his arithmetic workbook, he didn’t think much of it until the voice on the other end started apologizing profusely and very awkwardly.

“Oh man, John, I’m sorry, I didn’t think you’d—“

“Dave?”

John’s best friend paused, though for him a pause just meant going “uhhhhhhhhhhhh” for a long moment before continuing to speak without taking a breath. “Yo, you were just standing there, staring, I was thinking maybe you were watching something cool!”

“It was nothing like that.” John frowned against the cordless handset, trying to put his thoughts together about all the weird stuff that had happened that afternoon. “I was peeking, okay? Look, I’ll tell you tomorrow at school!”

“Oh shit, is it something good?”

“Dave, you know you’re not supposed to use words like that.”

“You’re the only one who cares, man. Bro doesn’t.”

“Yeah, and Dad says he should.”

“Whatev. Look, just hook me up during recess tomorrow, okay?”

John shook his head and bid Dave good night, turning off the phone and putting the handset down on his bed. Dave always talked like he was too old and too cool to be a little kid, which was dumb, because being a kid was the coolest thing ever. John did not agree with most of his friends that being an adult would be the best, mostly because being an adult seemed to mean somehow becoming or being related to professional clowns, and it wasn’t something John wanted to be within a mile of. Man, his dad was so weird.

Still, despite Dave’s call and the resolution of that one small mystery, John couldn’t help turning his thoughts back to that girl. He _had_ seen her before at school, though they’d never spoken. She showed up every morning in pristine and adorable frilly dresses that by every afternoon would be torn to shreds, and the barely-clinging ribbons of what was left would flutter about her wiry, tiny frame. They’d stopped sending her home for outfit changes after a while, a long as her tatters still mostly covered her up, which they did. She bossed other kids around and most of the grade saw her as a big bully, avoiding her as much as possible. John wasn’t easily cowed, though, and had no real impression of her other than she didn’t seem happy.

“Son!” John nearly gave himself whiplash he looked up at his bedroom door so fast. “Are you ready to review your homework yet?”

“Yeah, I’m coming!” John scrambled off his bed and tumbled out the door to go talk to his dad, pushing thoughts of Vriska out of his mind. He probably wouldn’t talk to her again, anyway.


	2. Then She Kidnapped Him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second and last chapter of the elementary school section. Next we skip to middle school.
> 
> Remember what it felt like to hold hands when you were a kid? It was just a thing that you did, and it wasn't a big deal until adults took pictures of it and cooed about how cute you were. Funny how we lose that sense of platonic intimacy as we get older.

John wouldn’t have guessed that he would end up becoming friends with Vriska Serket the very next day. In fact, from the time he woke up to the time the final bell of the day rang, everything seemed pretty normal. School was school, and that was boring (except for lunch and gym and anytime Dave managed to successfully distract him), but he had improv class again today, and like every day of the week, he was excited for it.

What he didn’t expect when he got there was Vrischika standing outside the door, her back pressed against it like her slender shoulders had all the strength of steel and stone to keep it closed forever. She was staring at him in a way that was somehow intense despite her relative lack of expression. 

"You! Come with me!" Vrischika - no, _Vriska_ \- marched over and grabbed John’s hand, then dragged him off down the hallway and straight into the nearest gym. The adults were already here, throwing around a basketball and paying no mind to the two little kids who were huddled in the corner, conversing in heated tones.

"Vriska, I have to go! I have my class now!"

"Not with that stupid thing on your face you don’t!" Vriska reached out and began to tug on one side of John’s awesome mustache, which he was suddenly relieved yet dismayed he’d decided to keep on his face with mild adhesive today.

"Ow! Vriska, stop!" John reeled a step back from her, leaning out of her reach and clapping a hand over his furry upper lip. "What’s your problem with my mustache, anyway! It’s great!"

"No, it’s dumb and you look dumb with it on! Take it off right now!" Vriska stamped her foot and balled her little fists up at her sides, and somehow, with her wiry black hair a bird’s nest of chaos around her head and shoulders, she managed to look marginally imposing. John frowned at her and turned his back, marching purposefully towards the doors.

"Go bother someone else, I have an audience to entertain!"

"Oh no you don’t!" Vriska darted over faster than he’d have thought her capable of and grabbed up his hand, dragging him forcibly towards the doors on the other side of the gym that led outside. "Come on! You’ll change your mind. I’m going to show you something cool!"

"Vris _ka_!"

It was no use. Vriska was stronger than she looked, and despite his attempts to dig in his heels and tug his hand away from her, he couldn't seem to slip her grasp. Maybe he just didn't really want to, even though by now his serious confusion and discomfort was starting to override the curiosity he’d felt about her. Or maybe this was the strength that had let her very nearly punch through a wall the day prior. Whatever the case, he suddenly found himself outside, blinking into the sun as Vriska darted away from him towards the YMCA’s little-used playground.

"Come on, come on!" she yelled again, sounding much more chipper this time. She'd scrambled up the jungle gym with lightning speed, already taking her place as rightful queen atop it and sneering down at John from on high. "You can climb up this high, right? Only babies can't do it!"

This was an insult that could not be borne. Him, a baby? Yeah right! He had a mustache and a cool improv class, no way would a baby have those kinds of awesome things! But now he had to prove it, or she'd never let him live it down. He somehow knew that about her, instinctively, despite this being only the second time he'd ever spoken to her. He'd have to prove his coolness the hard way, despite it being what he thought was a very self-obvious quality. So John squared his shoulders and stepped up to the jungle gym, examining the lattice work of blue and green steel bars and deciding where to start. He even stroked his chin dramatically for effect, and thought he probably looked pretty cool.

"Hurry up, doofus."

"Shut up! I'm coming, okay? Jeeeez." No time to waste. John stopped tactically planning his route and just put his hands to the bars, hauling himself up with all the ease and energy only a six year old can manage. It took him a minute or two longer than Vriska, because he wasn't nearly as familiar with this beast as she was, but soon he was joining her, taking a seat on the very top bars by her side.

"I knew you could do it," she said bracingly, granting him her approval with a look that was surprisingly warm. John stared at her for a moment, then frowned.

"Sure didn't sound like it a minute ago."

"Psh! I wouldn't bring anyone out here if I thought they were too big a loser to climb the jungle gym. But you're not a loser, right John? You're cool, like me!"

"Yeah! ... wait," he followed slowly as Vriska dissolved into delighted giggles. "Hey, you tricked me!"

"Only into getting you to tell the truth." Vriska leaned forward at the waist and stuck her tongue out, right in his face. John leaned instinctively back from her, which only made Vriska laugh all the harder. Thoroughly embarrassed and outdone at this point, John turned away and huffed, folding his arms over his chest.

"Well ... well, what was the thing you said was so cool about being up here, anyway? I don't see anything cool!"

He was being petulant now and he knew it. Somewhere, Dad was radiating stern, fatherly disapproval.

"Turn around."

"Turn a--?" John did so as he spoke, and his next words died on his tongue. After a moment's slack-jawed staring, he gripped the bars so he could twist his torso all the way around and get a better look. Beside him, Vriska pushed herself up, managing to get her feet planted on the horizontal bar they'd both been using for a seat and stand up. She balanced there with only a slight wobble to her legs, fearless despite the void on all sides.

The YMCA building, despite its utilitarian design, was nestled in a small copse of trees that gave way to the gentle slope of a hill, one that rolled down and away for a good mile or two. It was nothing magnificent, but on a clear autumn day like today, the view was rather pretty. Especially to two lone children, young enough still that a sight like this was both new and entirely magical.

"Wooooow," breathed John after a lengthy pause. Rather than keeping up the spit and vinegar of before, he gave credit where credit was due and smiled up at the girl beside him. "You were right. That is pretty cool!"

Vriska actually seemed rather surprised by the admission, and the frown that swiftly followed her shock did little to hide the expression. That just made John smile all the wider. "Heh heh. I guess that makes you cool too!"

For a moment, Vriska did not respond. Then she slowly and very carefully bent her knees, one hand reaching searchingly beneath her for the cool reassurance of metal. Her free hand shook and balanced precariously in space -- at least, until John took hold of it. He was surprised to find her palm was sweaty. Maybe she had been scared after all, holding herself up there like that with no safety. With one hand on the bars and the other tangled with John's, Vriska carefully lowered herself back down into a sitting position, tucking her kameez beneath her as she did so.

"Thanks," she finally mumbled with a shrug. "I think you're cool, too."

For a moment, the two children looked at each other. Then John rubbed his lip, and remembered with a jolt that he was missing class. He practically tumbled off the jungle gym in his haste to get down.

"Come on, we can still make it!"

"What? No! I don't want to go back to ballet class, I hate it!"

On the ground, John paused and looked up at her.

"Then come to improv with me! You'll love it, I promise!"

Nimbly, Vriska hopped back to the ground and stopped in front of John, giving him a narrow, calculating look. Then she grabbed his hand with a perfect lack of self-consciousness.

"Fine. You better be right!"

Hand in hand, the two children raced back into the YMCA. 

* * *

"You're friends with _Cheek_ now? Gross."

"Hey, don't call her that! Her name's _Vriska_."

Dave tried much too hard to lean against the nearest wall at the perfect angle and affected a shrug. "No it's not. It's Vris- _cheek_ -a. Ms. Moynihan said so herself at the beginning of the year."

And so she had. Ms. Moynihan, the first grade teacher, had glanced at her class roster and been at a total loss as to how to pronounce Vrischika's first name. Vris- _cheek_ -a had been her fumbling best guess, and both "Cheek" and "Chica" were nicknames that had followed Vriska around ever since. She'd started insisting on the shortened form, "Vriska," not long after that, and would often get into nasty fights with anyone who said otherwise.

"Yeah, well." John twisted his mouth into a tight frown, rubbing at his upper lip again. "It's mean. And wrong. Don't call her that."

"You really are friends with her. Is she your girlfriend now?" Dave couldn't help chortling to himself over his excellent joke even as John shoved him hard. "Shut up, she's not my girlfriend!"

"Who isn't whose girlfriend?"

Dave planted his palm directly on John's face to keep him at bay and turned his head towards their newest arrival. "Oh hey, Rose."

"No one isn't anyone's girlfriend!" John flailed both his arms, trying to smack any piece of Dave he could reach. Rose seemed to consider those words for a second, then ducked under both boys' arms and got unsettlingly close to John.

"If no one is not anyone's girlfriend, that means someone is anyone's girlfriend," Rose stated with maddening calmness. "We know you're the someone. Who is the anyone?"

"Vriswhatever Serket!" Dave crowed, ducking to the side so he could keep shoving at John's face unimpeded.

"Her name is Vriska!"

Just as things were about to escalate into a full-blown hallway brawl, a workbook came down with a hard, resounding _thwap_! first on Dave's head, and then John's.

John immediately backed off and glared at Jade with hurt and betrayal. "Hey, what'd I do?"

Jade, though the same age as all the rest of them, had the unfair advantage of somehow being the tallest. She used this fact to her advantage whenever possible, like right now, when it gave her the perfect vantage from which to smack quibbling boys on the head with her science homework. Jade propped one hand on her hip and used the other to brandish her rolled-up book threateningly, waggling it in the air the exact same way she would at her dog.

"You were fighting! Stop that! At least do it where any teachers can't see."

Rose had already wandered off to get her backpack, satisfied with the chaos she'd caused. She returned moments later, smiling the little half-smile she secretly practiced at home in front of the mirror some nights.

"There's not much to be done with boys in love. Let's just leave them alone." With that Rose turned on her heel and marched primly away. Jade, with a thoughtful pause, trotted along after her to whisper something in Rose's ear and giggle. Dave jumped back from John like touching his face had burned him, saying "Wait, boys?" his voice lifting in alarm on the -ys. "What do you mean, boys? Hey, wait!" And he ran after the girls too.

John was left alone to pout and fix much-askew glasses, as well as attempt to pat down his messy hair. He was interrupted in his straightening up when another hand tangled with his own, and he glanced over to see Vriska there, giving him an inscrutably serious look. She folded their fingers together just like the day before and gazed down the hall, where Jade, Rose, and Dave were all messing around, shoving each other and laughing loudly.

"Your friends seem nice."

"They are! You should come say hi!"

"... okay."

Hand-in-hand once again, they walked down the hall to join the rest of the group. Soon they were all talking together, and Vriska was laughing, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vriska is wearing a shalwar kameez, and it looks [like this](http://i.imgur.com/DhyKP1h.jpg). And [here](http://i.imgur.com/sDoBD8s.jpg) is the jungle gym, for reference.


End file.
